Golf, what else

Yesterday, Daddy and I went to the "green golf ball golf course" to play some golf. We did some chipping and some putting (I sank several three-footers). Then we went to the driving range. I love all the parts of the driving range---the machine that picks up the balls, the little baskets that carry the balls, and, of course, the balls themselves. The green golf ball golf course derives its name from the fact that all of its driving range golf balls have green lettering on them.

While usually I hit about a dozen golf balls and then let Daddy hit the rest, today I was really in the mood to hit. I whacked the whole basket full of them. What a lot of people don't know is that golf balls have their own distinct personalities. Here's how you do it. First, you find a golf ball that wants to be hit (or "putted" as I like to say). To figure this out, you listen for the golf ball saying "me, me, me" in response to the question "Do you want to be putted?". Then the golf ball boings over to the tee. Often the golf ball will say things on its way like "Grrr. I'm a grumpy golf ball." or "Yay, I'm a happy golf ball." or "I'm a little bit scared to be 'hitted.'" Then you put the ball on the tee. Then you put your hands on the club while Daddy puts his on too. Then, you have to make the all-important triangle wth your arms. Then you wind up and let the golf ball fly. I managed to hit a couple of golf balls the longest distance ever---around 40 yards---with this method.

One thing about golf balls, some are cleaner than others. There was one that was particularly dirty. I announced loudly, "This golf ball is ridiculously dirty!" This caused the woman in the driving range stall next to mine to double over in laughter. Generally, the other golfers seemed to enjoy my antics.

Golf is great!